During the past many decades, I have been asked by family, friends, fellow writers, advertising executives, TV and radio interviewers, book editors and publishers, and sometimes total strangers what my favorite book of all time is. I ’ m certain that you, my esteemed classmates, have had the same question posed to you at various points in your life.
My answer, depending on my age, memory, emotional receptivity, or passionate reading experience, has varied only slightly, as the books that have survived as my answers have also survived the test of time and have remained largely the same. And so, I have always chosen one from among this list of my all-time favorites: Dante Alighieri ’ s Inferno, Leonardo ’ s Notebooks, William Shakespeare’ s Hamlet and Macbeth, Michel de Montaigne ’ s Essais , Gustave Flaubert’ s Madame Bovary, Fyodor Dostoevsky ’ s Crime and Punishment, Franz Kafka ’ s The Trial, the poems of Arthur Rimbaud, Stéphane Mallarmé, Emily Dickinson, and Francis Ponge, Albert Camus ’ s Le Mythe de Sisyphe, and Arthur Miller ’ s Death of a Salesman.
Until now.
So now, if someone were to ask me the very same question, my reply would be, for the reasons to follow, a book that surpasses all of the above timeless classic tomes. Namely, The Williams College Class of 1966 60th Reunion Book.
Graced by the well-written and thoughtful and heartfelt reflections (is this, in part, a reflection of their Williams education?) of 1966 classmates (thanks so much to everyone who contributed theirs!) and the splendid cartoons of classmate Dan Cohn-Sherbok, edited lovingly by yours very truly, and with the emphatic support of reunion organizers Budge Upton and Allen Rork and our class Director of Alumni Engagement, Heather O’Brien, the book you are now about to flip through is a compilation of our recollections, ruminations, reflections, and opinions formed since our formative and impactful years in Billsville. How very special to have this tome now, just a few months before we (hopefully many of us) will reunite on our beloved campus to reconnect, share memories, and opine together
about our joys, sorrows, and challenges (happy and sad) now, since lo these SIXTY years!
I am hoping that you not only enjoy even treasure? reading and rereading these heartfelt and thoughtful pages, but I am also hoping that you will be attending our 60th to join in the fun, the camaraderie, and the fond reminiscing.
And, speaking of Hope, to quote the immortal Bob…thanks for the memories!
Our Reflections (in alphabetical order)
Pete Allen
Mitch’s reunion topic is much tougher than those for previous reunion books. It would have been a lot easier for me to just relate several key events from the previous decade to provide a personal timeline update.
When I contemplate my Williams path versus other possibilities, Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken” comes quickly to mind. It’s universal human nature to wonder about paths not taken (in my case, Middlebury or Princeton.) It’s also common to either regret or overcredit one’s chosen path. However, summarizing briefly my response to this assigned topic, there’s never been a moment when I wished I had spent 1962-66 otherwise than maturing and learning at Williams with our class.
When I entered Williams after public high school, my older brother had just died after a yearlong battle with cancer, and I’d never left home for any real duration. My freshman roommates, JAs, and Sage C entrymates immediately became an indispensable “second family.” Clarence Chaffee was also an inspirational coach of tennis and squash, revitalizing me regularly from the crushing challenges of class preparation.
Some of our classmates always aimed to be doctors or lawyers, but I was among the uncertain many who seemed hopeful to just start an undefined future career after graduation and provide well for a wife and family. I had always been quite proficient with numbers, but my initial math major track toward teaching (and coaching tennis) was dashed when numbers were soon displaced by “groups, rings, and ideals.” A shift to economics proved a much better match and qualified me afterward for an MBA at Dartmouth, followed by a satisfying executive business career that concluded with a long marketing concentration.
I’ll always be grateful to Williams for helping me find my career direction, for stirring my general curiosity, and for recognizing the importance and enjoyment of lifelong learning. Later, I also found unexpectedly that the
reputation of a Williams degree often seemed a valuable credential when candidates for employment or promotions were being evaluated.
Since our 50th reunion, I’ve been enduringly proud of our class’s Reunion Gift commitments, inspired by our great Reunion Gift Committee. Budge Upton’s leadership and advocacy to support the new Environmental Center established in our name creates a forward-looking legacy for innovatively teaching Williams students about managing important climate issues.
Finally, I really look forward to our 60th reunion, hoping to engage with many of our remarkable daily blog posters whose paths only lightly crossed mine when we were on campus. Oh, and I’m looking forward to returning with Kris, my high-school sweetheart and wife of 60 years!
Strolling around Williams always brings back nostalgic and fond memories for us both. Best wishes for everyone to enjoy our remaining days to the max!
peteallen1@verizon.net (508) 868-8198
Bill Adams
Freshman year, I was in a quad in Sage C with my roommates Gil Watson, Rick Coughlin, and Karl Garlid. We became close as the year went on and had lots of fun. I remember when Karl first arrived, he looked out the window and was totally amazed by the greenness of the trees and the landscape, because in California everything was pretty much brown by September. I enjoyed the freedom I had being away from home and without parental supervision. However, I was not too responsible. I played pool or billiards for probably a couple of hours almost every day. Studying was not as high up there on my priorities list as it should have been.
Sophomore year, Karl and I and Cardy Crawford roomed together, and I eventually (on the unprecedented second round of rushing) got into Zeta Psi/Wood House in large part due to what Karl said to the rest of the house as they were deciding who to take in that second round. Again, I played lots of pool and also lots of bridge. The deepening friendships I had with
Karl and Cardy and Joe Bessey were a real plus in my life. I remained close to Joe, Karl, and Cardy for the rest of their lives. It saddens me that they have all passed on, but the wonderful memories remain. I was learning better academically, but not as well as I should have. However, I was having a great time with my friends and my activities.
Despite having “bounced through the rushing system” but then been taken in the second round of rushing into Zeta Psi/Wood House, I was nonetheless treasurer of the house junior year and vice president senior year! FYI, Harrop Miller, who also bounced through the system as a sophomore and later was taken into the house, became president of the house in our senior year. So there we were, two “bouncers” as president and vice president of the house. Go Figure! Living in the house for junior and senior years was fantastic. Lots of good times with good friends and housemates.
In the years since graduation, I have kept warm feelings for Williams and my memories. I’ve gone to many of the 5-year reunions, and I particularly like the minireunions after our 50th because we get to see folks from the classes on either side of ours. Both of my children went to Williams, which has added to my loyalty. It’s hard to believe that we’re coming up to 60 years postgraduation. I feel very lucky to have gone to Williams and to have had so many good friends and good times there.
bill.b.adams@gmail.com (978) 273-6213
John Amerling
Ten years since our last reunion. To borrow an old movie title, its passage could be characterized as: “the good, the bad, and the ugly.” Let me start with the “bad.” In the past decade we have lost many relatives, friends, celebrities, and connections at an accelerating pace. We have also watched as we and those we know decline, fighting new battles, physically and mentally, as time marches on. One can only salute those who pass and those facing these inevitable changes.
Unfortunately, the last decade has been dominated by the “ugly”: the advent of Donald Trump. His narcissism has spearheaded countless attacks on all our fundamental institutions, sanctioning attacks on so many norms and societal values that, post-1966, most of us assumed were headed in the right direction: civil rights, women’s rights, the stupidity of endless wars, and a sense that we were a community composed of disparate parts working together to make things better for all.
But many “good” things happened, as well. Joan and I continued to forge our way back to living in Maine, moves backed by our two daughters, Kristin and Jennifer. Until just recently, I acted as an AAA arbitrator of major construction and development cases and served on a few boards as a director. At the same time, our friendships within the Williams community flowered. We have continued to be in constant contract with Stan and Carroll Possick, and Dick and Patty Pingree. Off and on we have also seen Dave Tunick, while running into others in fall “minireunions” in Williamstown.
Planning for and attending the Oxford trip before the 50th reunion caused us to form a strong friendship with Jock and Barbara Kimberly and to start up one with Allen and Lyn Rork. Those experiences also led us to a greater understanding of the lives and careers of persons we already knew like Budge (and Kyle) and Bill (and Margo), Kent Titus, and many more.
The last decade also gave us a pandemic helping spawn our Class Blog, which continues today (and to which I have occasionally contributed). Reminiscences on the blog about who or what was “best” often struck a bell like Steve Fox adding my favorite, Mark Knopfler, doing “Telegraph Road.” The only downside of the political exchanges on our blog has been
seeing that a distinct minority of classmates continue to view recent events as “policy changes” or well-thought-out steps, rather than selfaggrandizing measures made by a sick man who would be king.
Some more “good” for us. We plan to make it to the 60th . Perhaps you all will, as well.
john_amerling@earthlink.net (207) 798-0674
Bob Bates
By the 60th reunion, I will be eighty-two years old. It’s hard to believe unless I look in a mirror or see myself in a security camera, both of which I try to avoid.
My years at Williams seem like a very long time ago, and indeed they were! I look back at them as an important time in my life, and that may be as much about my developmental age at the time as the institution. I wanted a liberal arts education that would give me a broad perspective on the world, and Williams certainly did that. I majored in biology/premed, and I got into a good medical school. I had good friendships. I have enjoyed the e-mail Class Notes during the past few years, and they have given me a broader perspective on my classmates.
During my Williams years, it seemed to me that students were more conservative than the class notes now suggest. The notes remind me how stimulating it was to be around smart, interesting fellow students. Although I have tremendous appreciation for Williams, I don’t seem to have the same high level of nostalgia and fondness as many of my classmates. It seems like a tribal instinct, and I don't seem to have as strong a tribal gene. It was only four years, and it doesn’t seem more important than many other parts of my long life. It seems as though some people have deeper feelings based on participation in varsity athletics or a close connection to a professor. I had neither of those.
I did have the feeling of Williams being an elitist college and somewhat insular, and by senior year I was ready to move on. I have great respect for
the path Williams has taken since we matriculated: eliminating fraternities, becoming coed and more diverse. At the time of writing this note in January, I have not decided whether I will attend the reunion. I live in Santa Cruz, California, and although I am in good health for an old geezer, I don't relish airline travel. The class notes have provided information that I would get at a reunion, but it would be interesting to meet the people behind these notes. It would also be nice to see the campus.
bates3@sbcglobal.net (831) 515-9500
Dave Batten
• Lane Faison, Whitney Stoddard: art for the uneducated and the future pros: Tunick, Powell, Lane.
• Nicolas Fersen, Robert Waite: bringing history alive.
• “Clay rhymes with lay, Hunt rhymes with cunt”: truly one of a kind. Ulysses brought to life.
• John Eusden, good guy trying to save my soul. Captain Harvard swim team, Air Force pilot, totally unassuming.
• Doris de Keyserlingk: irst female prof with tenure; known for flipping her lit cigarettes into the corner of the classroom. Managed to flip one into her purse and caught it on fire, more memorable than three years of Russian classes. In awe of Michael Katz’s fluency in the language.
• Hal Crowther’s way with words foreshadowing his career as a writer; always a master of sarcasm.
• Best advice received at Williams from Topper Winder, an inveterate addict: don’t start smoking. Still sneaking a couple a day at 81.
• Recurring nightmare: once again having to read three Henry James novels in two 8-hour sittings, the ultimate punishment for procrastination.
• Books I still remember: The Education of Henry Adams, Let Us Now Praise Famous Men, Miss Lonelyhearts, Day of the Locust, Been Down So Long It Seems Like Up to Me.
• Short-lived intramural hockey career: boarded by some 200-pounder from Zeta Psi; chipped clavicle, still painful after several years.
• Folkways Record collection purchased as freshman; divorce damage, 1988. Andy Burr on the guitar
• Battles between Williams Hall and Sage Hall: attacks by snowballs, golf balls, 45 record discs.
• Food fights in Baxter Hall dining room.
• St. A’s Goat Room.
• Archimedes, Rutherford’s owl. (Dave, we miss you. RIP.)
• “Bat” Wrightington blowing his nose on a curtain in the Baxter Library reading room; when asked if he’d do that at home, he said, “We don’t have curtains at home.” Most memorable character in long leather (faux?) jacket on his bike.
• Captain of the Sailing Club with neither water nor boats.
• The orange wigs of Duke and the Darks.
• Doug Clark: Hot Nuts, Two Old Maids (“LS, LSMFT”), My Ding-aLing.
• Driving to Skidmore to see Ingrid; driving to Wheaton to see Joanie “Boom Boom”; driving to Bennington to see What’s Her Face.
• Ticketed on the Taconic for doing 85 in a 50; failed to break the record time from Long Island to Williamstown.
• PS: August 1966, driving ’66 GTO across country with Punky and Diane Booth. He fell asleep in Chicago and didn’t wake up until we reached Palo Alto. Great copilot.
• PPS: Quinquennial reunions
david@bat10com (305) 427-5796
Arthur Benson
At age 82, one would think that reflecting back to 18 would be problematic. But when it comes to Williams, it turns out that the trails leading back that far are not all that difficult to pick up.
I arrived in Williamstown a borderline atheist and left solidified in unbelief. Not much else remained static. It was Williams that introduced me to the law; from where I heard my first opera; at which I learned of the sonata form and how to distinguish duple from triple time (usually); was introduced to Renaissance art and later treasured John Hunisac’s The Art of Florence, paging through it with my daughter as she grew up; and where I became poorly conversational in Russian taught by a tall guy who jumped on a desk or hid behind it to teach prepositions. It must have worked. After graduating, I immediately left for Williams-inHong Kong, spending two weeks by myself in the USSR including Kyiv. Still today, all these years removed, Kyiv is etched in my memory, thanks to Williams.
In Hong Kong, we hardy six ’66ers including John Citron, who helps keep these memories alive were on the edge of vast historical facts of which we knew little and appreciated less. Hong Kong was spending down its final years on its British lease. The Cultural Revolution in China had just launched, and we then understood little but sensed much about what was roiling China just miles away as we peered. Some mornings we woke to look out over Hong Kong’s Victoria Harbor noting that “the fleet has come in,” telling us that the streets would be crowded and the prices elevated, so best return to the dorm after classes. Such was our brush with the military on R & R from Vietnam, another roiling change in the world that changed the world and our lives for decades. On our way back to the
